


becoming less defined

by alpheridies



Series: Kinktober 2020 [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Aftercare, Anal Fingering, Biting, Blood Drinking, Creampie, Knotting, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Oral Sex, Piercings, Rough Sex, Sibling Incest, Size Difference, Threesome - M/M/M, Wet & Messy, brothers with benefits but the benefit is love, it’s v minor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-06
Updated: 2020-12-06
Packaged: 2021-03-09 19:20:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,682
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27911416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alpheridies/pseuds/alpheridies
Summary: Maul reunites with his brothers.
Relationships: Darth Maul/Savage Opress, Feral/Darth Maul, Feral/Darth Maul/Savage Opress
Series: Kinktober 2020 [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2043826
Comments: 4
Kudos: 31





	becoming less defined

**Author's Note:**

> for kinktober day 21: size difference

Savage had made his home in the branches of a dead-and-living tree. A petrified, moss covered corpse, intertwined with a twisting redbark. Maul is careful of the saplings when he climbs, careful of the crunch of old bark under his feet as he follows the feeling of his brother's force signature. It's warm, Savage's presence, always was. He had felt  _ hot,  _ before, like pressing a hand to sun warmed metal until the skin began to blister. Now it is gentle, soft, permeating the Force with something Maul could only describe as being distinctly  _ Savage _ . 

He had vague memories of Abbaji. Sidious had trained him in its hundred foot trees, punished him when he slipped off the slick bark and had to be caught a meter or so before he hit the ground. He remembers how his hearts had raced, how it felt to have the blood drain from underneath his skin and be replaced with the sick, icy feeling of dread. He had remained in that state for the several rotations they stayed topside, becoming worse, until he had managed his task and maintained his balance. It didn’t fade, barely even eased up, but it was manageable.

Savage had never been able to shake the rage in the short time that Maul had known him after his tenure as a Sith apprentice had ended. Maul supposes, almost amused, that Mother Talzin did tend to have that effect, even without her heretic magick. He burns still, deep in his chest at the curve of his rib cage, even after her death. 

He only wishes it could have been him. He wouldn’t have been up to it, the only mother he’d ever known, wouldn’t have been able to execute her himself. Whatever attachment he’d had towards her in life was severed, now that he no longer had her in his head, at the base of his neck. He’s loath to think of her now, when he came for his brother and no one else. If he has anything, it’s Savage. 

The second Force signature he picks up on is not unexpected. Savage had only once spoken before of the brother he was forced to kill, a sign of fealty to the Nightsisters. Maul had nearly been overwhelmed by Savage’s unchecked emotions coming through their bond, even from halfway across the galaxy, when he had told him that Feral was okay, safe and back with Savage. 

  
  
  
  
  


It’s nearing nighttime now, the last of Abbaji’s suns just grazing the horizon, with the third moon taking its place in the arc along the western sky, and the air sticky with the specific type of late evening heat he associates with planets like this, so few and far between. The sky above is dark, a deep grey that promises rain in no small amount. He stands in front of the door to a wood and metal structure nestled in the intertwined trees for no more than a handful of seconds before it hisses, and opens with a creaking noise. 

He steadies his face, breathing deeply, and walks through. 

Savage doesn’t look surprised at the sight of him, despite the handful of years between first receiving his brothers’ coordinates and his visit, smiling in the soft glow of several mismatched lamps

_ “Maul,”  _ he says. His voice is strong, deep and pleasant just as he had remembered. “Brother.” 

Maul allows himself to relax for Savage, and the younger brother standing almost meekly a few feet behind him, eyes wide and bright. He pulls him into a hug and this time, Maul doesn’t tense, lets his shoulders drop and his hands curl into the thin fabric at the front of Savage’s robes, and exhales a breath he hadn't known he’d been holding. Savage has to hunch to press Maul’s head into the crook of his neck, even with Maul on his toes.

He sighs again, when Savage finally lets him go, no less than a minute later. 

Feral approaches carefully, but is not wary of his presence. The fact makes him wonder absently what Savage has told him of Maul, if he  _ knows _ Maul, if only in tales and memories, as he walks into Maul’s chest, resting his hands against the curve of his waist. 

He’s not warm like Savage is, skin a gentle cold instead; a perfect contrast to his older brother. 

The second thing he notices is that he’s  _ small _ , shorter than Maul by a few inches, and thin, all lithe muscle and sharp bone. He stays pressed to him for only a few moments, where Savage had gripped him with soft desperation, Feral is hesitant, holding tight to his black robes, even as he pulls away, barely a foot between them. 

“I didn’t think you would come,” His grin is full of teeth, canines pricking at his bottom lip, but it reaches his eyes, feels as genuine as the weight that had pressed against his chest. 

“I have nothing left,” Maul says, and it’s enough to turn his grin into a smile. 

  
  
  
  
  


Feral crowds him against a counter after dinner, and Maul is filled with something that feels foreign and hot and a bit like desire _ ,  _ shooting down the insides of his thighs. If he had knees, they’d be weak, trembling, but he doesn’t, and his metal legs are steady against Feral. He’s slotted himself between them, like it’s exactly where he belongs, plastered to Maul’s chest, mouth trailing feather light over his throat. 

The warmth grows, becomes almost unbearable, and with it comes the knot starting just above his navel. Desire was something dangerous, to want another person meant  _ being known,  _ and Maul had never allowed himself the vulnerability needed. Still, his cock twitches against Feral’s stomach, and he  _ smiles,  _ licking over his pulse point where he’s sure to feel Maul’s hearts pounding hard, if he hadn’t already. 

If he focuses enough he can hear Savage, only a few yards away, separated by a thin paneling of wood. Surely he knows, surely he can feel Maul, heated and aching through the Force, their bond an amplifier for every wave of fierce wanting that overtakes him. 

Something breaks in the other room. Maul barely processes the sound over Feral’s panting and the pounding of his heartbeat in his ears. 

Savage’s side of their bond lights up, like he’s only just managed to piece together what’s happening, and arousal that isn’t his own pushes it’s way through, settling heavy at the base of his spine. The cold of Feral’s fingers on his exposed chest burns. 

Hands slide inside the opening of his robes, pushing them off his shoulders, cool against his burning skin. They trail down his slides, faltering just above his belt. Feral pulls back, looking down at his chest. 

“Oh,” he says, surprised, then laughs softly. 

It takes Maul all of three seconds to remember his piercings, and by then, Feral has already snaked his way to them, thumbing the bars through his nipples with a renewed fascination. Maul leans up into the touch, back arching and head falling to rest against his shoulder, and stifles a moan against his hand. 

“You can make noise, Maul,” he kisses down his chest, sucking hard at any bare, unmarked skin until it’s a deep, rich violet. “Savage won’t mind; he likes me loud.” 

Maul is, at once, very aware of Savage, now leaning against the doorstop, arms crossed and looking decidedly amused. 

“I do,” he says simply, humor coloring his voice. 

Maul huffs, bracing himself against the countertop with one hand while the other comes to rest at the nape of Feral’s neck, dragging his head back down to lap and nip at his jaw, small, blunt horns digging into his skin. Savage’s eyes on him almost makes it worse, in a way. He’s already hard, straining the loose fabric of his pants. 

He can hear him moving across the room, the soft rustling of fabric his only guide, until Savage stops to kneel beside them, tugging lightly on Feral’s robes until he drops to the floor with a harsh thud. 

He glances up at Maul, eyes wide and bright, before pulling his trousers down to the start of his cybernetics, halfway down his thighs. Maul’s breath catches in his throat, hand clasped over his mouth, fingers digging into the soft tissue of his cheek painfully. 

It grounds him, but just barely. He was far too unprepared for the hot breath ghosting over his cock, for Feral to grip him with hands rough and calloused and gentle, pressing curious fingers into the silver studs running up his length, and he trembles, hard, his canines clicking together loudly in his skull. 

“ _ Wait,”  _ he gasps, though it comes out barely above a whisper over the roar of his hearts pounding just a beat behind each other. The pressure building behind his eyes is coming to be too much, throbbing and sending out waves of intense heat all the way to his fingertips. 

Feral draws his head back, hands holding tight to his hips, thumbs rubbing the bone where it jutted out. Maul is unsteady on his legs, and the servos in his knees whir loudly in an effort to keep him upright. 

“Maul?” 

“I am...fine,” he says, a breath too late for his brothers’ liking. It’s hard to find words for it, when any contact makes his skin sting from the unfamiliarity of it all, but he settles on simply confessing his lack of experience, eyes trained on the flooring between his feet. Feral withdrawals his touch as though he had been burned. 

“You’ve never…” There’s something a bit like amusement in Savage’s tone. He eyes the ladder of metal in his cock with raised brows, a suggestion of a smile on his lips. 

“ _ No. _ ” __

They both stare at him, the same wide eyed and questioning look plastered on their faces. He sighs, scrubbing his hand across his mouth, and ignores the warmth blossoming across his cheeks. 

“I’ve never,” he gestures vaguely, pausing, “needed to. Sex was not particularly encouraged during my training.” 

“And what of Saxon? He looked as though he wanted to  _ jump you.”  _ The words are teasing, but there’s a hint of jealousy behind them. His brother was always obvious, so easy to read. 

Maul grins, ever so slightly, teeth catching his bottom lip. “And  _ you _ , Savage? What did you want?”

“I wanted whatever you did. I’d have done anything you had asked of me, and I still would.” 

Maul pauses for a moment. Then he speaks, mouth splitting into an almost desperate grin. “Kiss me, then.” 

Savage drags Maul down by his hips, forcing his legs open and settling them around his waist. He wastes no time. Maul closes his eyes and relaxes into the feel of a tongue tracing his teeth, the soft insides of his mouth. It’s messy, rougher than Maul had expected of him, the force of it splitting his lip and mixing blood with spit, dripping thick down 

But Maul was unable to figure out where to keep his hands. With Feral, it had been easy, the counter digging into his back, and then Feral himself, a quick choice. Now he sits, straddling Savage’s wide hips, hands fisted awkwardly in the fabric of his trousers, and spine rigid with uncertainty while Savage maps the inside of his mouth with his tongue. 

Savage’s own hands are cradling his face, fingers separated around the horns on his temples and thumbs stroking over his cheekbones at a slow and steady pace, splitting Maul’s focus between the gentle touch against his skin and Savage’s mouth against his. 

Spit drips down Maul’s chin and onto his chest. Savage pulls back to lick into his mouth. Maul pushes himself as close to Savage as he can, using his brother’s robes for leverage, and leans towards his ear. 

“Take me to bed, brother.”

  
  
  
  
  


Maul’s skin had never crawled so badly, but for once, the itch was almost pleasant 

Savage’s fingers trail down the tattoos on his abdomen, as though he’s trying to commit the sharp lines and hostile curves to memory. Maul has never known such mercy as his brother’s hands on his bare skin, tracing raised scars and the lines of muscle in his abdomen. His hands come to rest on the curve of his waist, large and calloused, thumbs digging in on either side of his navel. 

He squeezes his hips, slides his hands up his sides and pets his chest, toying with his piercings. 

“Savage,” His voice is raw and broken, skin burning at every point of contact. 

_ I love you,  _ he wants to say, but doesn’t. The words become tangled in his throat, foreign and familiar all at once and it’s all he’s ever wanted, someone to love, to stop him from feeling so strongly it breaks him. No one will ever know him so intensely as his brothers, no one will ever know him at all, not in the way Savage and Feral do. There’s no one else left to be so vulnerable and open with, no one else who he’d ever let see him in such a way. 

“I know, Maul,” There’s a soft laugh against his throat, Feral’s, and Savage’s hands slide up from his chest to cup his jaw, tilting his head back and bringing his own face close to Maul’s. Feral slides down his chest, pressing his lips to the curve of his rib cage, over curling black ink, thumbing over the silver piercing in his navel. 

“ _ Savage,”  _ he says again. It didn’t feel like enough, the first time. He needs to know. 

“ _ I know _ , brother, we have you,” 

Feral laps at the crux of his thighs, soft bites and hickeys kissing his skin a shade of rich maroon, pressing his thumbs into every bruise and pointedly ignoring his cock, where it lays slick and heavy against his thigh.

He feels  _ wired,  _ nerves alight with every touch, a mess of anxious, excited energy. He  _ wants,  _ aches for it _ ,  _ so close to begging Feral for his mouth. 

Feral must have noticed, or felt it through the Force or in the trembling of his thighs, because he relents, stopping his teasing to take Maul’s dripping cock in hand.

Feral’s head tilts to the side, and Maul wonders if Savage mirrored him first, or if it was him who started that habit that he himself had picked up during Mandalore. Feral eyes Maul’s pierced cock, gaze curious, interested in the feel of the metal underneath his fingertips. He rubs them with the pads of his thumb, shifting the bars. What’s left of Maul’s thighs tense slightly at the feel of it, the soft pulse of pleasure that came with every movement. 

He sighs, breath ragged, thick, clear precum spilling from his slit. 

Feral runs his tongue up the length, keeping his eyes on Maul’s as he does. He’s good, messy in a way that speaks toward experience, deliberately drooling as much as he could without it being too much, coupled with the barely there scrape of his teeth against Maul’s cock, bumping the balls of his piercings. 

Maul’s feet stay flat against the bedding, unable to close his legs from Savage's hands holding them open. He wants to wrap them around Feral’s head, and keep him pressed to his groin until he comes. 

It’s far too slow for Maul’s liking, wanting more teeth, more tongue, more spit, his brother's  _ throat _ tight around his length. Feral glances back up, and makes the closest approximation of a smile that he can with his mouth stuffed full of cock. It’s his eyes, mostly, full of mirth, and the Force around him, the way it colors the same shade as the little yellow wildflowers Maul had noticed on his way down the path. 

Feral pulls off and flicks his tongue over the slit, kissing down his length. Maul bites the inside of his cheek, and scratches up Savage’s thigh. 

Feral draws back up, shifting on his stomach, and suckles lightly on the head, licks between his piercings, inhaling the scent of sweat and musk when he gets down to his balls. Maul’s knot has not yet formed, not enough stimulation, not enough heat to trigger it, but Feral still massages at the base of his cock, stroking without any set rhythm while he licks over any available skin he can. 

Savage is sure to feel the trembling of his thighs, the itch underneath his skin. He rubs absently over the scar tissue above his cybernetics. 

Feral’s hands replace Savage’s, and he wraps his arms around his thighs, setting the feet of his cybernetics beside his torso. His hold on his legs is tight, something else to focus on, over the warm, wet heat around his cock. Feral takes his in his mouth again, and sucks, rubbing the underside with his tongue. 

“Off,” Maul growls, voice laced with desperation, He grips at the sides of Feral’s face, torn between pulling him down into his lap or pushing him away before he comes, but Feral just looks up at him once more, eyes lidded and slightly unfocused, and doubles his efforts, swallowing him down until his horns press to his abdomen, Maul’s cock slipping down the curve of his throat. 

And Maul cums, back arching, breathy moans ripped from him as he spills down his brother’s throat. 

  
  
  
  
  


Savage’s hands are much larger than either of theirs, and Maul once again finds himself grossly unprepared. 

The stretch burns like nothing else. Savage is speaking into his ear gentle encouragements that Maul can’t process over the constant flow of sensation up his spine. He had fucked himself on his fingers before, on toys that he was ashamed to own, though nothing could prepare him for the size of Savage’s. 

He’s on his back, legs wide open, belly and throat bared, and feeling so terribly exposed. Savage holds him down with a hand splayed over his stomach. 

He’s as tense as he can be so soon after coming, stuffed with two fingers and tacky with drying sweat and oil. Savage presses harshly against his prostate and grins sweetly when Maul snaps his hips up, legs jerking together, the sound of metal on metal loud. His hips ache, there’s a bite that stings a little too much to go unnoticed on the inside of his left thigh, and he’s still soft. But his discomfort is an undertone if anything at all, too caught up in the smile plastered on Savage’s face, on Feral’s hand squeezing his own every time his body seizes up, to voice any kind of complaint. 

“You’re doing good for your first time,” Feral says. Maul’s face flushes with heat. 

Savage takes him carefully, all slow movements and gentle touches, spreading his fingers wide and twisting them until he is satisfied with the way Maul opens up for him. Then, more lube, and two more thick fingers slip in with little resistance save for the few seconds he stiffens up, and then relaxes again, shifting his legs open. 

It’s too much of the same sensation once again, repetitive and overstimulating and Maul fixes Savage with a glare when he meets his eyes, and nudges his shoulder with a cold, metal foot. 

Feral laughs softly, and the mattress dips as they trade places. Savage takes Maul against his chest and settles his hands on his ribs, and Feral fits himself into the space between his legs with ease, spreading his thighs around his hips. 

Feral glances at him from under long, dark eyelashes, a questioning look plastered to his face. Maul, unable to find his voice, blinks hard twice, and Feral must understand, because he smiles, showing his teeth, and takes his cock in hand. 

Feral is gentler with him than Maul would be with himself, pushing in slowly until he bottoms out, their hips pressed flush together. Feral’s hipbones press into the soft skin of his inner thigh. His hands find purchase on his waist, squeezing slightly, then slide up his sides to play with his chest. 

He twists one bar, pinching at the other. Maul tries to hold back the moan building in his chest. He’s hot down to his chest, warm all over where their skin meets.

Feral finds purchase, not on Maul, but on Savage, hands braced against his abdomen, on either side of Maul. 

He smells of sweat and the forest and something like a wick that had gone out. Maul grabs his face, kissing him hard until his mouth is slick with spit and all they’re doing is breathing each other’s air, committing the shape of his mouth to memory. 

Feral leans forward, pressing his chest to Maul’s. He’s slow, bordering on the side of too little to bring him over the edge. Pressure and heat build at the base of his spine. The muscles in his stomach tense with a particularly hard thrust against his prostate. 

The scene is thick and heady in the air. His head is heavy with it, as though there was a change in air pressure and he was waiting for his ears to pop. 

Feral presses his face to Maul’s neck, and he lets his head drop to the side, baring the column of his throat. Feral kisses up to his jaw, sucks a bruise there, and moves back down to where his neck meets his shoulder. He smiles, canines bared, the threat of teeth causes him to shudder. 

“ _ Please _ ,” he says, voice breaking. 

Feral smiles wider against his throat, and then white hot pain drips down his spine, merging with the throbbing in his hips. 

It’s not even close to unbearable, the sharp sting of teeth in the curve of his neck, and surely Feral must know that he’s felt worse but even so, his brother licks the blood from his neck as though apologizing. Maul rakes his blunt nails down Feral’s back, body seizing with sobs as he drinks from him, cooing softly in his ear, sweet and gentle. He aches, aches all over, from deep within his chest, to his waist where Savage’s hands are soothing the tender, unseen bruises left by his fingers, to his throat where Feral is placing kisses above his bite. His eyes burn with tears threatening to fall, his vision blurred. Maul can’t remember the last time he cried. 

Feral had pulled away, Maul realizes, only by the wet sound of kissing over his shoulder. It hurts to move his head, and his wounds throb in time with his heartbeats, but he shifts just enough to watch Feral lick into Savage’s mouth, smearing blood and spit over their lips. It’s messy, nothing but teeth and tongue, but it sends arousal through his pulse, thick precum sliding down his shaft. 

A hand finds its way between them, calloused and scarred and big, and works him over in steady, careful strokes, thumb rubbing into his slit, smearing precum down his shaft to ease the glide. He shudders, heat building up behind his navel, legs tensing and relaxing against Feral’s hips, and is left with the phantom sensation of his toes curling when he cums. 

  
  
  
  
  


Feral finishes with a soft moan, head dropping to Maul’s shoulder. It’s  _ hot _ , the feeling of Feral coming inside, and so is the idea of it, that he’s full and warm with his brother’s seed. His cock twitches against his stomach, half hard and dripping, and he whines pitifully when Feral pulls out. Maul only has a moment to mourn the loss of the stinging stretch, to feel cum spilling from between his legs, before Savage is shifting his thigh up, one hand between them, and slips the head of his thick cock into his hole. Immediately, he picks a forceful pace, snapping his hips against Maul’s ass with bruising thrusts and pulling him farther and farther down until he can see his brother’s cock in his guts, a noticeable bulge to his stomach. 

He’s fully hard by then, almost embarrassingly quick. 

One of Savage’s large hands slides up his stomach, over the center of his chest, until it reaches his neck. Maul has to suppress the instinctual panic that tinges his nerves, leaning his head back to allow Savage to grip tightly at his jaw, palm a heavy pressure on his throat. 

Maul pants against his lips, yields to the insistent tongue trying to lick into his mouth and taste him. The aftertaste of blood on his brother’s tongue is sharp. Maul swallows his spit with arousal sitting deep in his stomach, every inch of his skin hot with it. 

He is rough, in the way he jerks his hips, in the way that he  _ takes _ , no longer giving, selfish in his pace. Maul is only halfway filled with Savage’s cock. The sheer size had made him almost sick at the thought of it inside him, and he already felt so thoroughly used even before this. 

Every thrust now is meant not to give pleasure, but to stuff him full of his brother’s cock as much as he can take. Tears slide freely down his face now, already sticky with sweat, and he would scream if he wasn’t biting at the inside of his cheek. He barely registers the tang of iron in his mouth, glancing down at the now rather prominent bulge beneath his navel with an odd fascination. He brings a shaking hand to his stomach and presses down lightly. Savage groans behind him. The rumble of it vibrates in Maul’s chest. 

“How do you feel?” 

Maul pauses, blinking rapidly to clear his eyes, dampens down the urge to protest. He’s barely aware of himself, body nothing but nerves and aches and unrelenting pleasure. 

Absently, he realizes the room smells of metal now, a mix of iron and ozone and rich earth, and the sharp undertone of sex. Maul picks up on the pattering of raindrops on the glass windows. It’s grounding, the rhythmic sound of the rain brings him back to himself, from the precipice of sensation flooding his system. He closes his eyes, steadies his breathing. 

“Do you want to stop?” There’s a smile in his voice. Maul is sure he would have noticed it even if his lips weren’t pressed to his cheek. 

“ _ No,”  _ He’s far too aroused to be embarrassed at how quickly he replies.

Savage laughs, drops a kiss to his shoulder, and slows his pace, adjusting his grip on his hips and focusing on the force behind his thrusts above anything else, desperate to sheath himself inside him, to shove the entirety of his cock deep in Maul’s guts. 

“You think you can take all of me, brother?”

Maul opens his mouth to say  _ No _ , then maybe,  _ don’t stop _ , but he is unable to speak. 

Savage brings himself up on his knees as he snaps his hips against his brother’s ass, the sudden forceful thrust knocking Maul’s balance off. He pitches forward, bracing himself on his forearms, head dropping to the mattress, unable to steady himself. It’s too much, being so full, surrounded by him so completely. His stomach aches, like he was just struck in the gut and his breathing stalls for a moment, unable to get air into his lungs but  _ Force _ , it feels good, the pain unrecognizable where it blurs into pleasure at the base of his spine. 

Savage is brutal, as though he is acutely aware of the need that rolled off Maul in waves, the ache to be hurt, and to hurt in return in equal measure, and Maul is grateful, grateful for the change. A violent hand, something so familiar and out of place compared to the gentle way he had behaved before, when it was he and Feral pressed chest to chest, breathing in each other’s air with Savage grounding them. Maul wonders, through his hazed mind, if Savage is taking it out on him, using him, finally getting his piece. 

“You’re being too rough, Savage.” He hears Feral say, but he’s laughing, sound muffled into a pillow or his palm. 

Maul moans in response, trying to push himself back on his cock. 

“Are you alright, Maul?” 

It’s teasing, he realizes far too late. It’s teasing, because Savage knows Maul will take what he gives him without a second thought, and will still want for everything. Will still want for the full stretch of Savage’s cock inside him, his hands on his length, the sound of his voice. Anything, as long as it’s Savage. 

“ _ Yes,”  _ he says, and his voice is broken, raw and full of everything he’s ever felt. 

Something presses insistently against his hole, and it’s with a brief surge of arousal and dread that Maul realizes that his brother intends to  _ knot  _ him. Savage splays a hand over the back of his neck, holding him down. Another comes to spread his ass, to watch his cock pound into him, aided by Feral’s cum in place of real lubricant. Every thrust is harder, rougher. The sound of skin on skin is loud even over the blood roaring in Maul’s ears. 

There’s the cold sensation of lube against his hole, and Savage presses him down with his full weight focused on his hips, bracing himself on a hand placed beside Maul’s head. He can feel, more than he can hear, Savage panting against the nape of his neck. 

His knot slides in with an ease, at first, and Maul’s hole yields just shy of enough. Savage’s movements are slow and careful, but Maul knows better than to trust it. This brief gentleness could only be the antecedent to roughness, to more bruises; another bite mark, scratches; blood in his mouth and under his nails. 

Savage lets his chest settle fully on Maul’s back, pressing him further into the mattress, one hand pulling his hips up to force him onto the widest point of his knot, and his body seizes with it, the ache making him throb with white hot heat, dripping up his spine. His cock is trapped between his stomach and the mattress, just enough stimulation to cause precum to spill from his slit and soak the sheets, but not nearly enough to push him over the edge. 

Savage bucks his hips against Maul’s ass twice, pushing his knot in fully, moaning softly when he tenses around him. Maul can’t tell where he ends and Savage beings, every point of contact has his nerves alight down to his fingertips. 

He feels absent, empty and full all at once, like there is nothing left of him but Savage, and Feral, sitting pretty across the bed. He is unaware of his limbs, unaware of Savage, for all he’s filled with him, until he moves, a soft grinding, shifting the length of his cock and knot inside him.

Savage sighs, and Maul can almost see, with perfect clarity, the blissed out expression on Savage’s face. He’s tempted to twist his head, to sneak a glance at him, but to truly know how Savage’s looks, when he’s buried deep in his brother, would be too much. Maul would never last as long as he has if he could see him, his cock already twitching slightly at the thought. 

Maul comes first, gasping as he does. It’s dry, nothing more than a gush of slick, his body overstimulated. His thighs burn from the strain of supporting himself and his stomach aches, so full and so raw. Savage places a hand over his, fisted in the sheets, and eases it open, lacing their fingers together.

When Savage finishes, it’s another flood of thick heat, spreading from his guts to his fingertips and he can feel it so far into his abdomen he’s sure it’s in his stomach, threading to spill into his throat. Maul collapses then, held up only by the fact that Savage’s knot hadn’t gone down yet. His limbs are heavy, but he squeezes Savage’s hand and sighs when Savage does too. 

_ “Maul,”  _ he says, and this time he can’t place the tone of his voice, but even his name sounds loaded, like there’s so much behind it that Savage can’t say, at least not now. 

Savage hooks an arm around his waist and drops his head to Maul’s shoulder, panting hard for a few long moments until his breathing has evened out. Slowly, he draws up on his knees, slipping his cock from Maul’s ass. 

Hands on his hips keep Maul from laying flat on the mattress. Savage presses a thumb into his hole, admiring the sight of his cum gushing out and spilling down his thighs. 

There’s a nudge to his side, and Savage helps roll Maul onto his back. He can feel a distant pain—Feral’s, he’s still got blood and skin underneath his nails from dragging them down his back—when he settles down fully. The welts on his thighs throb and his nipples are sore and kiss swollen, and Savage runs his warm hands over every part of him that stings and aches.

Maul squeezes his eyes shut, takes a moment to take in the kaleidoscope of colors and patterns behind his eyelids to distract himself and dampen down the heat building up in the center of his face. His vision is only slightly blurred when he opens them, and his face is thankfully dry save for sweat and drool. 

  
  
  
  
  


The aftermath is worse somehow. Maul relishes the feel of his open wounds, his bruises, and he tries not to recoil at the feeling of Feral spreading salve on whatever he can see. It’s not enough to soothe the aching in his chest. There’s still blood and skin underneath Savage’s nails. 

The room is cool with a late summer chill and the air still heavy with the scent of sex and sweat. Maul’s body stings where the bedsheets meet his skin and aches where hands have touched him, but he’s calm. The Force, their bond, washed over with a gentle contentment, coming off Savage and Feral in waves. 

Savage settles down next to him, Feral on his other side, arm slung across his waist. Maul closes his eyes, and exhales. 

  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> find me on twt @ alpheridiesrex


End file.
